Just another night in PB for Adam…

6/26/07

I planned on a light night of drinking for Friday, because I not only had my 10-year reunion the next day, but also had to perform best man duties on a 3-day bachelor party trip to Vegas on Sunday.  Started at a house party in North PB and after two other bars, we ended up at the most terrible bar in the world, Typhoon Saloon.  Granted, this place has shown me a few good times.  But recently, it has been nothing but trouble, and this night wasn’t going to disappoint.

Upon entering we meet up with a group of people who one of the other guys with us knows.  Before I even get to introduce myself, one of the tertiary friends grabs my hand and pulls me on to the “dance floor”.  I call it this because we’re not in the back where normal people dance, we’re up next to the front bar where all the people who enjoy lung cancer like to hang out.  This girl was noticeably trashed: eyes rolled back in her head, staggering back and forth, and heavily slurring her speech.  The kind of drunk that will leave you in pain for days after, and you only have your friends to remind you about it because your memory went bye-bye after that 12^th shot of Jager.  We’ve all been there, and she was there now.

Click to read the rest of this Typhoon Saloon nightmare.

This girl (let’s call her Brown Dress, since I never did catch her name) was clearly set on seducing me during the dance.  She was doing her best to look seductive as her eyes couldn’t focus on any one thing, crawling around on that filthy floor like a tiger… a tiger that had just been shot by a horse tranquilizer and couldn’t walk straight.  There really is nothing sexier than a girl that looks like she’s about to vomit and/or pass out at any moment.  I was already aware she had drawn the attention of everyone sitting in the front bar, and was pretty sure they assumed I knew this girl.  While slithering around on the floor, Brown Dress crawled between my legs, laid on her back, and did her best Sharon Stone in whatever movie that was impression by uncrossing and crossing her legs.

Someone should have reminded her to put on underwear that night if she wanted to pull that maneuver, or maybe she had already lost it at another bar.  Just when I thought she was done, Brown Dress quickly jumped to her feet, but her strapless dress failed to cooperate and she lost whatever dignity she might have had left when the top half of her dress fell down.  At that moment it was apparent it really was a “no undergarment” night for this girl. Brown Dress was so drunk, I think she was actually coming around for a second showing, in case the first hadn’t already reeled me in.  During a moment of drunk crawling, I bolted in the other direction while receiving unwanted high fives and cheers from the people who weren’t mortified for this poor mess of a girl.  When the coast was clear I grabbed a friend, and told him I had to leave for fear of further molestation, that Jackass thought the whole thing was hilarious, and I never want to set foot inside Typhoon again. Pretty sure this is how she woke up.

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